


Legacy

by akelios



Category: The Dresden Files - Jim Butcher
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Character Death, Child Abuse, Dresden Files Kink Meme, Forced Pregnancy, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Mind Control, Mpreg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-30
Updated: 2011-04-30
Packaged: 2017-12-28 16:39:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 21,810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/994160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/akelios/pseuds/akelios
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Justin has promised certain of his allies in the world of dark magic the chance to own their very own infant wizard to raise and mould how they like.</p><p>With Elaine gone, he turns to his remaining apprentice to help him keep his word.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Legacy

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for a prompt on the Dresden Files Kink Meme. I have, because I am super organized and shit, lost the link to the original request. So I suck.
> 
> Unbeta'd, because it's old. I've done a read through but some mistakes have probably made it in. 
> 
> Also, I have written some dark and messed up shit in my life. Somehow I feel like this is worse than so many of the things I have put other characters (and other Harry's) through.
> 
> If you want to know who dies before you read, check the note at the bottom of the story.

"Harry. I need you in here." Justin called out from the ritual room and I bit down on a sigh. He hated it when we- when _I_ 'talked back', even if I didn't say anything at all. Sighing 'with attitude' had gotten me beaten enough times I'd gotten good at doing it internally.

I finished drying the pan as quickly as I could and set it back in the cupboard without a sound. Then I walked quickly, but quietly because Justin didn't like noise. He took the old line, 'children should be seen and not heard' very seriously. Except he didn't really want us- _me_ to be seen most of the time either.

At the door I stopped and ran a mental check. I was still in my one suit, the one I'd had at the group home. It was the only thing I'd had to wear to Elaine's funeral. My jacket was hung up in the hall, but I hadn't left it lying out, I hadn't gotten mud in the house and I was still clean, my sleeves rolled up so I could wash the lunch dishes. I couldn't think of anything that might have upset Justin, but that didn't mean there wasn't something I didn't know about yet.

I knocked once and then opened the door. Justin was sitting in his chair wearing his robe and staring at the ritual circle. It was large, a steel circle probably ten feet across set permanently into the concrete floor. Justin had set it up for a spell while I was busy cooking and then cleaning up after. I didn't recognize what the ingredients were for and had to resist the urge to move closer to it to examine it.

"Sir?"

"Harry. You know that Elaine and I have been working on a private project. With her gone," Dead. Elaine was dead. She'd jumped, flown, long hair streaming behind her, my hands missing her by an inch, terrified, screaming, and then gone under the water with a violent swirl of current. What they'd pulled out the next day wasn't Elaine. It didn't even look like her. "I need you to take her place in the project."

"Yes sir." I kept my eyes on the floor. I didn't want Justin to see the pain in my face. He'd told me that Elaine had been weak. She'd failed and that's why she'd jumped. That's why she didn't deserve anything from us but contempt.

"Strip and cleanse yourself. It's a ritual, Harry, so be thorough."

"Yes sir." I went into the small bathroom off to the side. The curtain over the doorway scraped the floor like nails when I pulled it closed. I turned my back to the door and stripped off my suit, neatly folding everything and putting it on the wire shelf. The shower was freezing, the same as always but I took enough time to make sure I washed everything. If I was out too fast Justin would know I'd rushed through the cleansing but if I took too long Justin would be angry that I was messing around. Quick and perfect, that was the key.

When I came out, dry and shivering in my own thin brown robe Justin was kneeling between two of the candles around the circle, eyes closed, mouth moving silently. I walked quietly across the room and knelt to his right and behind him, bowing my own head to wait.

We knelt there for another fifteen minutes before Justin shifted, his head coming up and turning just enough to see me. I stood and pulled my robe open, letting it fall down my arms and catch on my wrists so he could see me as I turned.

"Good enough. Stand in the middle of the circle." I started to pull my robe back up and Justin shook his head, so I let it drop all the way to the floor. Justin followed me into the circle, his hands full with a little clay jar and a horsehair brush he kept to paint runes and other sigils when he needed to.

"Hold your arms out to the side and don't move. These symbols have to be exact and I don't want you screwing them up." I lifted my arms and held them there. Justin tugged at them a little, pulling them up a bit more until they were shoulder height and then he kicked at my ankles, moving my legs apart.

The paint was thick and cold, gloppy. It smelled like pennies and was crimson-black against my pale skin. I watched Justin paint me out of the corners of my eyes, rolling them without moving my head. It was hard because most of the work was on my stomach and around on my lower back and butt. I wanted to shiver each time the brush came down on my skin, but I fought it back. However uncomfortable it was, Justin's punishment if I screwed it up would be worse.

When he was finished he set the pot and brush down outside the circle and then closed it. I could feel the brush of power over my skin as it snapped shut and then the air was thick, moist like after a heavy rain. I held still as Justin paced around the circle, hands moving rhythmically, making signs as he chanted. It was his spell language, something hard and gutteral. It grated, the consonants like a slap, vowels swallowed and coughed back up mangled and alien.

Justin circled me three times and then came to stand in front of me, the edge of his robe brushing my toes. I curled them away but didn't move otherwise. He brought his right hand up and bit into the tender skin between thumb and forefinger, drawing blood in a bright half-moon. Still chanting Justin brought his bleeding hand up and smeared the blood across my forehead, down my nose and then on each cheek.

He pulled away and disappeared behind me. I could hear him moving, the dull slap of his feet against the floor, the slippery whisper of his robe against his skin, and then his hand was on the back of my neck, pushing. I hadn't been expecting it and my balance was poor. I went forward, falling hard and just barely managing to catch myself on my hands and knees before kissing concrete.

"Just-" He backhanded me from behind. It was an awkward angle, but Justin was strong and black spots danced in front of me for a few seconds. By the time I shook my head clear I could feel him kneeling behind me, robe spread to either side, sliding across my outer thighs and Justin's bare skin rubbed against me, one hand on the back of my neck still, the other on my hip, holding me still. I shouted, tried to pull away, but it was too late. Justin kept chanting, a darker growl to his voice and he jerked forward, splitting me in two.

Pain, like nothing I'd felt before slammed up into me and I stopped yelling because I had no breath left. When he pulled back I managed to gasp in a short little breath and then it was forced out of me on a high, keening whine as Justin shoved back in, all the way this time because I could feel his hips, his stomach against me. The pain peaked, maybe, or maybe my nerves just gave out because it didn't get worse, but it didn't get better either. I couldn't get enough air to scream, but I kept trying.

There were voices in the air, whispers and cackling laughter and over all of it Justin's voice, grinding out his spell, cutting it into my flesh and pouring it into my body with each thrust. My mind drifted, trying to find something else to focus on, but there was nothing and I kept coming back to that place, to the bloody scrape of my hands and knees across the rough floor, the slap of flesh against flesh and the magic I could taste in the air, pressing itself into me, flowing from Justin into me, through my gasping mouth and down deep into my gut.

Justin must have finished. He pulled out and let go of me. My arms couldn't hold me any more and I slumped, throat raw, eyes squeezed shut. He grabbed my arm and rolled me, then took my face in his hands and shook my head back and forth. I forced my eyes open and stared up at him, at the man who'd called himself my father. He didn't look any different. Shouldn't he have looked different now?

"Harry. Blackstone. Copperfield. Dresden." I shuddered at my Name. I could feel something slicing into my mind, hooks digging in, grinding. "You will not speak of this ritual to anyone. You will do nothing to harm yourself, or any child." His magic cut into me again and I felt it take, felt the absolute certainty that I would do what he said, because it was good. It was right. I wouldn't tell anyone. I wouldn't hurt myself. I wouldn't hurt any children. And it would all be okay.

_3 weeks_

"Harry? Harry. Harry!" I muttered and shifted, trying to find a more comfortable position, then something soft but still fairly firm hit me straight in the face.

"Shit." I jerked and my eyes opened. I hadn't even realized they'd been closed. Shit and double shit. Ms. Moffat was standing up at the board, a second eraser in hand just in case the first one had missed or I'd managed to shrug it off. I'd fallen asleep in class. Again. "I- I'm sorry ma'am. I didn't hear the question."

"Really? I'm surprised anyone could hear the question over your snoring Harry." She turned away, dismissed me and called on one of the other kids. I could feel the flush creeping up the back of my neck, over my cheeks. I hunched in my chair, leaning over my books and tried to look intent.

It was hard. I was tired all the time lately. With Elaine - without anyone else living at Justin's I had to do all the chores. Things took twice as long as they used to because there was no one to help me. I still had my school work to keep up with because if that fell people would come to check on us and that would be bad. My magic studies couldn't be neglected either. It was the one useful thing about me, my magic, and I needed to learn to use it so people would need me.

And I had to help Justin with his project. Even though I didn't have to do anything, just had to- to- help. Even though all I had to do was help it was draining. Every night, right after I'd finished cleaning, we worked on the project. And then I had to finish all my homework, magical and mundane, before I could go to bed.

"Harry." My head shot up. It'd fallen down onto the desk, nose planted in my textbook. I'd never even noticed I was drifting off again. Not good. Ms. Moffat was beside my desk now, her face a mix of anger and confusion.

"I-"

"No. The final bell rang five minutes ago Harry. You didn't even twitch. Are you feeling okay?" She sounded concerned, which was just as bad as mad. Concerned would be a trip to the nurse, or the counselor and then a call to Justin. And then Justin would 'speak' to me about my sleeping habits, or about screwing around on school time and I wouldn't be able to sit down for a month. But the problem would be solved with the school.

"I'm fine. I stayed up too late last night, but I'll get to bed early tonight, I promise." I started to pack up my things, rushing. It was a five mile walk home and Justin's dinner had to be ready by the time he got back from work.

"You've been quiet lately. It's not just today. Ever since the accident. You don't talk to the other kids, you sit alone at lunch and on your free period." She slid into the chair of the desk in front of me. A long talk then. "Are you doing okay? Your father told us he had you talking to someone about things. Is it helping?"

"Y-yeah. Yeah. It's just, just hard, of course. But it's getting better. It is. I-I'm sorry. I'll do better. I will." I threw my bag over my shoulder and rose. Conversation over. I'll do better. I'll be perfect and it'll be better.

Only once I was up, my head seemed to float off from the rest of me and the room spun. My stomach sloshed, clenched, and then I was bent over, sour acid churning up my throat, spilling out of me and onto the floor. I caught myself on my desk but it tipped, over balanced and clattered to the tile, taking me down with it so I was down there, braced over the growing pool of disgusting liquid, watching it splatter over Ms. Moffat's shoes through teary eyes. My back spasmed, waking up pains that had dulled over the course of the day and it set my stomach off again.

I threw up until there was nothing left. My gut still heaved, trying to turn itself inside out, but they were dry heaves. I hadn't had much of an appetite at lunch, for which I was grateful.

"Do you think you can move? Are you done?" I nodded, which might have been a mistake because it made my stomach roil in a whole different way, but nothing else came out. Ms. Moffat stepped around the edges of the mess and took my arm, helping me up. She slid my backpack off my shoulder and onto her own, then wrapped her free arm around me, awkward since I was at least a head taller than she was. "Let's get you to the nurse. We'll call Mr. DuMorne from the office."

_6 weeks_

The metal of the table was cold under my back and it didn't seem to warm up at all though I'd been lying on it for a good ten minutes already. I was tired, even though I'd been getting hours of extra sleep the past several weeks, but the table was uncomfortable enough to keep me from drifting off.

Justin was moving about the room, out of my view. I could hear things clattering and he was talking to his assistant, some spirit that lived in a skull. They spoke in German, or something really close, something I didn't understand at all, but I knew it was about me. Every once in a while I heard my name and I could feel them looking at me while they spoke.

My stomach gurgled, growling and hungry and I winced, sliding my hands over it and pressing down, willing it to be quiet.

"Hungry again?" Justin came and leaned over the table, the skull under his arm, its reddish eye lights glowing.

"Yes sir. I'm sorry. I just can't seem to get enough lately."

"That's fine. You're growing Harry. It's important that you eat enough. Don't worry about what I said before, about eating too much. If you're hungry, eat something." He patted me on the shoulder, then let his hand rest there, warm against my skin. "We're going to take a look at you Harry. Just relax."

Justin set the skull down on a small rolling table next to my legs and then started poking at me, taking my pulse, listening to my lungs. He rattled off information to the spirit who acted like a tape recorder sometimes. Of course the spirit would take the information in and work with it. The information would mean something to it, something useful.

Done with the basics, he moved on to my stomach. His hands against the bare skin there made me flinch, but it was tiny and Justin didn't say anything. He might not have even noticed. I was sensitive lately. Things brushing against my skin irritated me when they never had before. I'd started wearing my oldest, softest clothes, but even that only helped a little.

Justin was gentle, careful, pressing around my lower stomach and hips cautiously. "Sore?"

"A little, sir. It's not too bad though."

"What about the vomiting? You've been drinking the ginger tea?"

"Yes sir. It's better. I've felt awful once or twice this week, and had to puke last night, but the tea's helped a lot."

"Good. Keep drinking it. I'm going to give you two pills. They're vitamins. You'll take them every day. Understand?" I nodded. He slapped my hip, lightly. "Knees up, feet flat on the table and spread."

I obeyed and he moved down to the end of the table, bringing the skull with him. He set it down between my legs and I squirmed. It said something and I couldn't help but feel like it was commenting on me. Justin said something short in return and then pressed at my inner thighs, moving my legs just a bit further apart. It was a strain, and uncomfortable, but not painful. I could hold this position for a while.

Justin took my penis in hand, lifting it from where it lay limply between my legs and held it out of his way. His other hand poked at the skin just behind my balls. He pulled at the skin with his fingers, stretching it and making more notes with the spirit in the skull.

I managed to control the urge to squirm away even as my face heated up until his nails scraped against me. I yelped and tried to close my legs, but Justin put one hand on my knee and then squeezed the other around my sex. It hurt, jagged bolts stabbing up from my groin into the rest of me and I went still, breathing ragged and tears in my eyes.

"Hold still. I'm almost done." He twisted that hand, still too tight around me and I choked down on my scream. I held very, very still while he poked a few more times and then he let me go, stepping back away and picking up the skull.

"Everything looks good. Get dressed and then go make lunch. I want soup."

"Sir." My voice came out scratchy and breathy, but loud enough. Justin tucked the skull back up under his arm and disappeared, off to his study.

_9 weeks_

I couldn't sleep. It was probably one or two in the morning, but I couldn't be sure. I didn't dare light a candle to see the clock and it wouldn't have mattered anyway. I was tired but I couldn't settle down. I couldn't get comfortable. Every position I tried was wrong somehow.

It'd been a problem lately. Justin had rearranged my schedule after I got sick at school so I didn't have to do the house top to bottom every day. A room a day, which left me enough time to cook and get all my homework done, get my check-up and then be in bed by eight. I should have been getting plenty of sleep. But I was lucky to get four or five hours a night.

I shifted onto my side and then sucked in a sharp breath as the movement sent my back into a quick spasm that dulled out into a pulsating ache.

~

Justin's car was in the driveway when I got home. I slowed down from my jog, pacing myself so by the time I reached the door my breathing was even and calm. He shouldn't have been home yet. It was only four in the afternoon and he never got back before five thirty, usually closer to six.

I went in the back door and slipped up the stairs. I dropped my bag in my closet and ran into the bathroom. A quick pass with the wash cloth to get the dust and dirt from the road off and then out. Justin would either be in the lab or in the living room.

He was in the lab. The door was cracked open and I could see him gathering things up into boxes. He was moving quickly but not frantically. When he turned to carry a full box over to the trap door Justin saw me standing in the doorway.

"Good, you're home. Is you room taken care of? Everything put away?"

"Yes."

"Excellent. Some people from work are coming here." He disappeared down into the crawl space with his box and then climbed back out. "Take the skull and get down there." Justin took another box down, and then stood beside the hole, waiting.

I crossed the room and grabbed the skull off of its shelf. The crawl space was maybe three feet by three feet, and only about five feet deep. It was a tiny cramped hole and I hated it. Even without the boxes Justin had shoehorned in there it was too small for me to be comfortable. With all of that in it I had to curl up on top of the boxes, their edges digging into my legs, my head bumping the ceiling.

I wedged the skull into the corner furthest away from me and closed my eyes. Justin closed the door over my head and all the light in the room went out. When I opened my eyes there was nothing but close, dusty darkness and the harsh rasp of my own breathing.

I'd been down here before. We didn't get a whole lot of visitors, but sometimes when we did Justin would send Elaine and I down here to hide. Sometimes he'd just lock one of us down here. I'd spent a lot of time down in this hole the first year after Justin had adopted me. At least I wasn't afraid of the dark any more.

"Psst. Hey. Hey kiddo." I jumped a little, smacking my head against the ceiling. Dull orange-yellow lights flickered in the skulls eye sockets. There wasn't anywhere to go, but I jerked back anyway, bringing my legs up in close to my body, holding them there so I was as far away from the thing as I could get. It wasn't far, but it was all the space I could get. "Hey there." I turned my head away. I didn't want to look at the damn thing.

"Oh yeah. That's great. Real mature. We're gonna be down here for a few hours. Wardens get talking and man they can never shut up! Just thought you might get lonely, bored, you know? But whatever. I can entertain myself if I have to-" I bit my lip. It was still going on. Rambling. Hell, it wasn't this talkative when Justin was using it. It kept going on about 'wardens' and how annoying they were.

I held out for maybe ten minutes.

"Fine! Fine. I can't take you." I turned back to the skull. The lights were brighter now and I could see by them. "What's a warden?"

"Wizard gestapo! Dour, no senses of humour and quick on the draw. They tend to err on the side of kill it first and don't bother with the questions." The spirit sounded different. It had always been harsh or cold before. Now it seemed...friendly? Maybe. Sort of childish.

"What're they doing coming here?"

"Justin's a warden." I have no idea how, but the spirit rolled its eyes. "This is boring...let's talk about you, kleine mutter. Is that new mix of herbs keeping the morning sickness down?" The skull jittered forward, moving closer to me and eyeing me intently.

"Morning- I'm not sick. My stomach's been giving me some trouble, that's all."

"Uh-huh. Wow. So, uh, oh."

"'Wow'? What? What's going on?" The lights dimmed, then came back.

"You're pregnant. Knocked up. In the family way. Expecting. I thought Justin explained it. He explained it to the last one. Then again, that didn't go so well so-"

"Shut up!" I reached across the space and slapped the skull, sending it skittering over the boxes and into the corner behind the small stairs. "I'm not- that's not- it's not possible!"

"Ooowww. Hey, don't blame the messenger here. Look, you've been sick, right? Tired, hungry all the time, for odd things? Things you wouldn't normally want?" Peanut butter. Even thinking about it made my stomach pinch and grumble. I'd been eating it straight out of the jar and I didn't even like peanut butter. "Tender? Muscle pain in the back?" I nodded. "I rest my case. It's a good thing. Means the ritual worked."

"Stop. Stop talking." I pulled my legs in closer, tucking my head into my knees. It wasn't true. It didn't matter what the spirit said, it couldn't be true.

When Justin opened the door a few hours later I blinked into the light, throwing up a hand in front of my eyes. I climbed up the ladder and I could feel my hands shaking as I did. Once I was up in the lab I stepped away from Justin. I meant to just walk out. To go start dinner. To get back to the routine. But I couldn't. I couldn't make my legs go to the door. I couldn't stop myself from turning to face him.

"What is it?"

"Is- the spirit said that you'd- that I-"

"Spit it out." Justin moved closer to me and I took a step back. A dark look crossed through his eyes and then he had me by the hair, bowing my head back, straining my neck back and back until I had to choose between falling over or going to my knees. I went to my knees, clutching at Justin's arm, trying to keep him from tearing out a chunk of scalp.

"A baby?" I whispered it and I watched his eyes. I wanted him to laugh, to tell me it wasn't true. But I saw the dark joy in his face before he even opened his mouth. It was true. It was all true.

"Yes. My baby." Justin knelt down on the floor beside me, his hand still fisted in my hair, the other coming up to press against my stomach. "Mine."

_13 weeks_

It was horrible. Just- I didn't want to look at it, but I couldn't look at anything else.

I'd slept in, it was Saturday so Justin wasn't up yet and I had the house to myself. It was nice, not having to worry if he was coming around the corner any second. I still needed to be careful about making any noise, but I felt like I could breathe just a little bit easier.

And then I'd stumbled into my little bathroom to pee. That's when I noticed it.

My stomach had...popped was the only thing I could think of. It wasn't huge, but it definitely bowed out, a gradual curve that rose just slightly, twisting the familiar lines of my body into something freakish and alien.

I was shaking, I could see my hands shiver as they moved to that bump, touching it. It was like it belonged to someone else. I could feel it. I could feel my hands against my stomach and I knew that they pressed too hard, trying to be steady and failing. I knew that the skin was hot and a little too firm beneath my palms, but it didn't seem like any of that belonged to me.

I wanted to scream and cry and throw things. My vision went red and when the other colors came back I was hunched over the sink, gagging as I threw up again. My head was spinning and I slumped, dropping onto the lid of the toilet with a soft thump.

The pain hit without warning, stabbing into my spine and then clenching around my stomach. It felt like something was trying to squash me, a thick cord tied around me, tightening at the same time something else was pressing from the inside. I hunched over, gasping, trying to find a position that made it better.

I fought to breathe through it, to keep quiet, tears squeezing out of my eyes.

It faded slowly, but it did eventually retreat into a background sensation. Uncomfortable, but getting better. When I could move, I stood and stumbled back over to the sink to clean up.

Justin would be waking up soon and I needed to have breakfast on the table.

_16 weeks_

I'd signed up for a gym class when school started. Before everything went to hell. My bulge had kept growing and it was impossible to wear any of my own clothes any more. I was wearing Justin's shirts and some pants that he'd picked up somewhere that had an elastic front that wrapped over the bulge rather than cut into it. As long as I wore a longer shirt you couldn't tell that there was anything different about the pants.

But there was nothing I could do to hide the thing if I had to change in the locker rooms and Justin was concerned that something could happen in the gym. So he'd gotten a note from some doctor somewhere that excused me because of a twisted back muscle. He'd handed me the note one morning and I had choked on the hysterical little laugh.

The gym teacher had given me a strange look, but in the end he hadn't had a choice and I'd been excused from participating. In order to make up the credit though, I had to play gopher for him. It was a lot of running back and forth, grabbing this bit of equipment or that. It didn't keep the other kids from watching me with hot, curious eyes. It didn't stop the whispers about me from growing louder and louder with each passing day.

~

I couldn't make the walk home from school any more. It was still hot out, the middle of August, and I'd passed out on the side of the road last Friday. One of the Senior's, a guy named Clark who lived even further out of town than we did had spotted me while driving home and stopped to help. He'd gotten me into his truck, given me some water and driven me the rest of the way to the house.

He'd also refused to leave until Justin got home. Clark had wanted to take me to the hospital, or at least to the walk-in clinic, but I'd refused and he'd finally given up but he wouldn't leave me alone in case I passed out again. Justin had been all fatherly concern with Clark there and I'd been expecting hell once we were alone, but it never came.

He wasn't happy by any stretch, but he was more worried about making sure that no one looked at us too close and making sure that nothing happened to his baby to take it out on me. So Justin started picking me up every day.

~

I was on my hands and knees scrubbing at the carpet in the hall when the cramps hit. My back seized up and I shouted in pained surprise. It wasn't the first time. Things kept shifting around inside me and my muscles would only take so much before they gave a resounding 'fuck you' and hit back.

Justin came running through the house to find me trying to huddle in on myself and not move my back all at the same time.

"Your back again?" Irate. Like I could help it.

"Y-yesss..." I bit it out, grinding my teeth. Justin sighed and walked away. I wrapped my arms tighter around myself, trying to ride out the spasm, curling in instinctively even though it pulled and hurt more. Then my arms brushed against the hard bulge beneath my shirt and I jerked away from it, legs kicking out, gasping and then whimpering and biting through my lip at the new aspect to my pain. I didn't want to touch it. This was all because of it. My pain, my exhaustion, the nose bleeds, the hunger. All of it because of the thing growing inside me.

Justin came back, some sort of clear pouch in his hands. I held as still as I could, the taste of my own blood filling my mouth as he walked around behind me and knelt down. I flinched when his hand found the bottom of the t-shirt and started pulling it up, but he only moved it up to the middle of my back and then there was a muffled wet snapping sound and something soft and deliciously warm was pressed against the small of my back, right where the pain started.

A sigh slipped out of me. It felt so good, even through the pain, and after several minutes the muscles started to slowly release. I shuddered, the cessation of pain a strange, tingling rush through my body.

Justin kept the pack pressed into my back, but I felt him shift his weight and then a hand was sliding over my ribs, up under the soft fabric of the shirt and then down, cupping the rise of my stomach, stroking it rhythmically.

_20 weeks_

"Holy shit!" I dropped the bottle of water I was carrying, my hands flying to my sides, pressing into the taut skin. It didn't take long before the sensation came again, something hard twisting inside me, kicking? Was it kicking me? I couldn't tell. I couldn't see any movement, but I could feel it. A twisting, gliding pressure, something pushing back against my palm from the inside.

I was nauseous all of a sudden. I jerked my hands away, shaking them, trying to get rid of the feeling. Moving. It was moving. I'd known...I'd known it was alive in there, growing. How could I have missed it? I was too big to be ignored any longer and Justin had pulled me out of school, telling them that I was going to be home schooled.

"What? What is it?" Bob rattled on the coffee table, turning himself away from the window he'd been staring out of to face me. I still had no idea how he moved the skull around.

Justin was gone all day, every day. I'd had no one to talk to, nothing to do. I'd taken to talking to the spirit in the skull, and one day he just became Bob. It seemed neater, easier, to give him a name. It helped separate the way he was with me from the way he was with Justin. He really was an entirely different person, like a split personality.

"It moved. I felt it."

"Neat." I shot him a look. For something that didn't have a face, Bob could project facial expressions really well.

"Oops. Not neat? Sorry. Sorry."

"It's fine. It doesn't matter." I walked back into the kitchen and pulled another bottle of water out of the ice box. I nudged the one I'd dropped out of the walkway so I wouldn't trip on the damn thing later and carefully sat in the recliner. "Go back to the signatories to the Accords. Who are they all again?"

_26 weeks_

I spent the day before my sixteenth birthday in a strange house being paraded around in front of strange people like a prized show dog.

Justin hadn't explained what was going on, just roused me out of bed that morning and produced new clothes for me to wear. He'd fucking fussed with the collar on the shirt before deciding that it was right and taking us through the Nevernever to this...party.

The house was huge, so big it probably should be called something else, something grander. Manor house? Mansion? Unreasonable? It didn't matter, really. All it meant was that there was a lot of ground to cover, even with everyone penned into one huge room.

No one wanted to stand next to anyone else, and Justin seemed to need to talk to every single person there. They were in groups of two or three, talking amongst themselves and shooting looks at the other groups. Justin kept a good, solid grip on my wrist as he worked the room, smiling, chatting. They talked about nonsense, meaningless things. Once, a man who wore a cloak with a deep hood that shadowed and hid his face reached out and took my hand, fingers dry against the skin. He'd said something to Justin in a flowing, lyrical language as Justin pulled me out of his grip.

Tension sprang up in the air between them and Cloak's companion, a smaller person also hidden in a hood and cloak had stepped forward, small hands spread in front of them, power beginning to flicker and gather between their palms.

Laughter rang out, feminine and joyful. Amused.

"Really, boys, don't tell me you can't behave for ten minutes of polite conversation." A woman appeared beside us, smiling and beautiful. She was pale and her long black hair brushed against my arm as she reached out and slipped her arm through mine, pulling at me until I was leaning against her, my other arm extended back toward Justin and his bruising grip on my wrist.

"Lara." Cloak bowed, a small movement of his head. The woman, Lara, returned the gesture, inclining her head a bit more deeply. She turned to Justin, smile widening.

"Justin, dear. If I might borrow our young guest? He looks positively done in, poor thing." Justin looked like he wanted to protest, but then Lara leaned around me, never letting go and brushed her fingers over his wrist. He jerked away and his hand released me. "You have my word I will look after him as though he were my own."

"I have your word, as host?" 

Lara frowned at Justin.

"You doubt the hospitality of House Raith? My father has agreed to host this auction, out of friendship with you DuMorne. Do you think that means you may insult him and his honor?" Justin flushed, angry.

"Of course not. He is rather valuable, though. I can't be blamed for being cautious."

"Mmm. As you say. You have my father's word that peace will be maintained during these proceedings. You may have mine that I will allow no harm to come to this young man while he is in my charge. Does that suffice?"

"It does."

Lara moved us away, down the length of the room and to an alcove hidden behind an ornate screen. There was a small table and a chair, worn and comfortable looking. Lara led me over and guided me down into the seat.

"Stay here and rest. Justin will come and fetch you once everything is over. It's all technical talk and braggadocio at this stage anyway." She patted my head gently, her attention already elsewhere, and then she was gone. I slumped back, stretching out my tired and aching legs, working to find a position that eased my breathing. Something had shifted in the last week or so and I had a hard time getting a deep breath any more.

My mind wandered and I found myself listening in to the conversation going on closest to me.

"-LaFey's son, all right. And with DuMorne's potential added to it. It's certainly worth the effort and whatever cost, should we win."

"If the boy and the offspring are so valuable, why wait? Take them both now, kill the warlock and anyone who gets in our way. I dislike this dancing around, Nicodemus."

"We came here under oath my dear. We cannot start killing our way to the goal now. We will mingle tonight, we will get the lay of the land. And then, once the child is born, we will bid, just as everyone else. If we win, well enough. If not then we may make our contingency plans." I held still, straining not to move. The moment of understanding came quickly and painfully.

This was a display. A pre-sale viewing of the wares.

Justin was going to sell it. He was going to auction off the-

I shivered and wrapped one arm over my stomach.

_38 weeks_

It took too long.

I'd started having nightmares, right after our little outing. Right after I'd realised Justin was selling the baby. My terrors were bright edged, razor sharp things that I couldn't get out of my mind even in the middle of the day. A baby crying, screaming. I was running, trying to find it, trying to help it, to keep it safe, but I never could. There were things all around me, things that looked like people but weren't. They took the baby away.

They laughed, held me down, smiling with sharp sharp teeth as I screamed, weeping. Hands and claws, other things I didn't have words for all over me, stroking. Justin's voice somewhere in the dark and then his hand on the flat of my stomach, heavy and hot and disgusting, cold stabbing through me where he touched and then my stomach was swollen, hugely pregnant again.

I came awake every night, sobbing silently, breathing hard and clutching my belly. I whispered to it sometimes, there in the dark, where I didn't have to look at it. Nonsense things. Things that calmed the movement, the tiny elbows to my bladder, the press of a foot or a hand, so hard that I could feel it when I put my hand there, feel the outline of the limb in near perfect detail.

My head ached all the time. In the daylight, looking at myself, the shape of me twisted out of true and broken, I knew that I didn't want it. I didn't want the baby inside of me. I couldn't picture holding it, singing to it and loving it the way my father had loved me. But I didn't know what else to do with it. The thought that I could let Justin have it, let him take it and give it to those things, to the monsters from my nightmares made something in my head shriek, claws digging in and ripping at me. They would hurt it. I knew it. I knew with the strength of absolute certainty that everyone wanted to hurt the baby, and that was not allowed. I just couldn't let them.

So I planned. I squirreled away food and water. Cans of formula. I could only take a little at a time, or Justin would have noticed and I had no money and no way to get into town to buy any of my own. It took too long to have enough.

It was the middle of January and I was massive. Bob called me 'ready to pop' once. I threatened him with the heavy wood baseball bat I'd stolen from a neighbor's house and he didn't say it again. I knew I couldn't escape in the real world. I was more than a little memorable. Almost six feet tall and nine months pregnant? I wasn't going to blend in anywhere I went. It would have to be through the Nevernever which had it's own dangers, chief among them being I didn't know my way. I'd learned how to open a door, but never explored. Which meant I had to take Bob with me when I left.

He wasn't heavy, being mostly air and some bone, but it was just another thing to worry about. Something else to keep track of and it was just me and I could only carry so much. I didn't pack a whole lot of clothing. It was more important to bring enough food and water. Finally though, I was ready. The trickiest part was getting out. I wasn't good enough to open the way to the Nevernever during the day. I'd tried, and the sun shorted me out. Which meant I had to wait for dark. And Justin would be home.

~

I went to bed right after I finished cleaning up the dinner dishes. Justin had smiled when I asked if it was okay and run his hand over my head, ruffling my hair. I'd kept my eyes down, been quiet and subdued, been what he expected to see, so he didn't see anything else.

My body was tense, thrumming with nervous energy. Justin didn't head to his bedroom until close to midnight. I listened to his heavy tread up the stairs and then my door creaked open, nearly silently. With my back to the door and my eyes closed I couldn't see Justin, but I could feel him staring at me for a long minute before he stepped back out and shut the door with a soft click.

I waited another three hours before I slipped awkwardly out of my bed and changed into the dark clothing I'd stuffed at the end of it, out of sight. Every time a floor board creaked, I froze. I knew it was ridiculous, that Justin was asleep and even if he hadn't been, there was no way he could hear such soft sounds even from the very next bedroom. Finally though, I was dressed, my bag of supplies strapped firmly over my shoulders, my bat in one hand.

The door opening was impossibly loud in the stillness of the dark house and I held my breath through it, waiting. There was no way to play this off. If Justin came out just now I couldn't claim to be going to the bathroom. Silence. Nothing. I moved into the hall and shut my door behind me. It might buy a little time, if Justin happened to get up. Down the stairs, dodging the places where I knew they creaked or groaned and then through the downstairs by memory and into the lab.

I had a pillow case with me for Bob. His eyelights popped up when I whispered to him and then they dulled back down into near invisibility. He stayed silent, a new trick for him as I picked him up and carefully slid him into the makeshift bag. I tied the pillow case to one of the straps on my backpack and took hold of the bat again. Back into the house and then through the kitchen, out the back door.

My heart was pounding, mouth dry. I had to move slowly. The snow was thick on the ground and I was leaving a path a mile wide behind me, but there was no help for that. I couldn't do a damn thing about the weather and I couldn't afford to lose my balance. I wasn't entirely sure I could get back up if I fell.

I'd taken Bob out into the woods around the house a few days ago and we'd found a spot that Bob said was good for crossing into the Nevernever. It was nothing more than a small space where the trees grew further apart than normal, but I'd marked the trail carefully and it was close enough that I could make it there in under an hour, even at my pace.

I found it and took a minute to just breathe, to concentrate and get my will and my power in order. Then, leaning on the bat like a walking stick I raised my hand and whispered, "Apartum." I slashed my hand down and the air in front of me ripped, curling back at the edges of the tear I'd made until it was a hole just wide enough for me to walk through. The other side looked a lot like the woods around me, only there was a wide cobblestone road winding through that other forest.

I was concentrating so hard on the magic I needed to keep the doorway open and on checking out the other side, looking for any slavering monsters that I didn't hear the crunch of movement behind me until it was too late. A hand clamped down on the back of my neck, another around the wrist of the hand holding the bat, and I was yanked back, spinning around on uncertain footing.

My fingers lost their grip on the smooth wood and the bat went tumbling down into a drift against one of the trees. I caught a glimpse of Justin, his face mottled with purple and scarlet, enraged, and then I went sliding past him, spinning through the air, feet unable to get any purchase on the ground. My back hit a tree, all the breath going out of me and I slumped to the ground, vision dropping in and out on me.

Justin stalked toward me, anger pouring off of him. I took hold of the tree I'd landed at the foot of and pulled myself up, my breathing painful, muscles in my back and sides clenching and then releasing. Pain roiled through me, but Justin was coming and I couldn't face him from my knees.

I struggled to take deep breaths and leaned against the tree, whimpering. He bared his teeth at me.

"Foolish. I'm disappointed, Harry. I expected better. Maybe even a fight. But this?" He shook his head. Smug, he looked toward the door into the Nevernever, taking his eyes off of me.

I took one long step away from the tree and swung the branch I'd grabbed up from the ground. It wasn't very big, but it was easily as thick around as my wrist and I swung with every bit of strength I could find.

The first blow caught him broadside, across his cheek, smashing his ear. I thought I heard the wet crunch of bones snapping. He stumbled, spinning toward me, mouth opening for a spell and I swung the branch back around, up at the best angle I could manage. It glanced across his jaw, not hard enough to do damage, but it derailed whatever he'd been about to throw at me.

I couldn't hear anything except for the rush of my own blood in my ears, my hands clenched so tightly into the rough bark that they hurt. Justin shook his head and I could see blood dripping from his nose, his mouth.

"Harry-" I swung again. Like baseball, up over the shoulder and then through. Something in my chest tore and pain stabbed into me, liquid and burning. It didn't matter. I caught him in the temple this time. He went down. Eyes dull in the shadows and moonlight, stunned. I hobbled over and with each movement I felt colder. Justin was trying to rise, trying to get his arms and legs working together.

I didn't give him the chance. I swung down, again and again. At some point he stopped moving. It might have been when the back of his head caved in. It might have been when the branch finally broke and I had to stab the jagged end of it at his throat. I lost track of time, of anything except for the sight of him bleeding into the snow, unmoving.

It was the sound of hounds that broke through to me.

I jerked my head up and looked around. My vision swam and for a few seconds I thought I was going to fall over, the earth seemed to have tilted a bit off center. The howling was getting louder, closer, but I couldn't see anything. I moved without thinking about it, shuffling back away from the body until my back hit a tree. I tried to reach out, just a little, with my magic and a lance of pain shot through my temples, nearly dropping me. 

I gagged through the pain, coughing up some clear acidic liquid. When I could see straight and felt as though I could move without making it worse, I reached back and tugged on the knot in the pillow case, bringing it around and opening it. 

“Bob?” My voice sounded wrong. Far away and echoing. Underwater. It was awkward, but I managed to jiggle the skull until I was holding it cradled in one arm against my chest, the case around it but pushed down so he could see out.

“Yeah? We didn't cross- ohhhh. Oh wow. Um. Harry? Is that-”

“Not important. Hounds. I can hear hounds. Can you see them?” I needed to know which way to run. Bob made a sound between a hum and a whistle and I could feel the skull moving around, but more than that the brush of energy coming out of the spirit. It only took a few seconds and then Bob, the sense of him, really, tensed. 

“That's bad. Very bad. We need to leave now Harry. There's something big coming from the South.” That was the direction of the house, I thought. I grunted and tried to push off the tree. More pain, this time centered in my stomach. The muscles pulled in, squeezing, and I panted, trying to keep breathing. My legs felt like jelly, but once the spasm in my stomach passed I got them working and took a step or two toward the rift. It was still open, which surprised me. My doors had never lasted very long before. “Uh, Harry?”

“Not. Now.” One foot in front of the other, more or less, and I reached the door. 

“Harry! You really need to-” A black dog the size of a small pony leapt through the entrance into the Nevernever, hitting me on one side and knocking me backwards into the ground. I fell hard, I couldn't get my hands under in time to catch myself. My grip on the branch failed and it went skidding off somewhere into the dark and Bob rolled, knocking into the same drift that had caught my bat earlier.

“Oh, darling boy. What have they done to you?” I foundered in the snow until I could find solid ground and then I pushed myself up as far as I could, almost sitting upright.

The woman stepping through into the real world was tall and beautiful. Her hair was a deep flame red, eyes golden and glowing in a milk-pale face. She was wearing an old fashioned outfit. I'd seen something like it once in a painting showing nobility hunting. A long brown skirt and jacket with a high collar buttoned all the way up, the silky looking ruffle brushing the underside of her chin. Dogs spilled out from the Nevernever behind her, different colors, sizes and breeds. They snuffled around, none of them coming too close to me. Several of the larger ones padded over to the body and I saw the big black one put his muzzle down to the largest pool of blood and lap at it. 

“W-who are you?” 

“You may call me Lea, godson.” Perfect. A crazy woman. She walked toward me and I could see that she didn't sink into it. She was really walking on top of the snow. The woman, Lea, started to bend over, one hand outstretched as though she was going to grab me. I couldn't stand, I would have to roll over and hang on to something to do that, but I snarled at her and tried to scoot back through the snow. The pain in my abdomen was a constant throb now, but I could move through it. Maybe I could reach my bat, or another branch. A rock, something.

She arched one eyebrow at me but stopped moving, watching me. I had almost made it over to Bob, over to where I thought my only weapon might be when I hit a patch of ice under the snow and my right arm went out from under me. I went down, again. The snow cushioned my head a little bit, but I hit something hard. 

“Stubborn. What's the phrase? Bull headed. Very much like your mother.” Lea was over me and then she had one small hand wrapped around each of my arms and just lifted. I came up out of the snow with no effort, like I weighed nothing at all. She set me on my feet and held me up. She was about to speak when something heavy and dark whipped through the half a foot or so of space between us.

We both turned. I turned to see what the hell it was and found a knife embedded nearly to it's hilt in a tree behind us. Lea turned to see where the knife had come from and when I looked in the same direction I found another woman. 

This one was tall, she probably hit six feet herself, and her hair was some dark shade, short enough that she'd spiked it up. In contrast to the old fashioned clothing Lea was wearing, the newcomer was dressed in dark jeans and jacket. The sword hilt sticking up over one shoulder didn't fit with her look, or with the gun she had strapped to her belt.

“Release the boy, fae.” She stalked forward, skirting the blood. The pack of dogs moved away from the body, starting to encircle the woman.

“I will not. I have claim here, Chooser. Debts are owed and I will repay them.”

“Not tonight. I have orders to retrieve this mortal and to slay the wizard DuMorne.” Her head inclined slightly to the form on the ground. “Clearly half of the job has been done for me, but I will not leave without the child.”

Lea bared her teeth and hissed, like a giant freaking cat. She never took her eyes off the woman with the sword, but she lowered me to a sitting position, then straightened, turning to face her fully. Lea raised her hands and light gathered, crackling with power. The woman reached back and pulled out her sword, the thrum of power growing even more intense. The two of them started to move closer to each other, slowly.

“Pssst. Harry.” I turned to look at Bob. “Now would be a great time to leave.” I nodded and the movement made my head light and floaty. But I pushed back until my back hit a tree and then levered myself up. The women were focused on one another, no movement, and then something changed, maybe one of them moved and I didn't see it, but they were suddenly at one another's throats. Lea throwing spells, the woman parrying them with her sword and every so often throwing a spell herself. No one was paying any attention to me. Even the dogs were busy with the fight or, I saw, eating. I felt myself smiling at the sight, but it wasn't pleasant. More like baring my teeth. I couldn't stop though.

I pushed away from the tree cautiously. The world was still unsteady, the ache moving up into my chest, pounding in time with my heart, but I moved anyway. I kept one hand on the tree and started to lean over, to pick up Bob. Then I was on the ground, blinking snow out of my eyes and wondering what the hell had just happened in a vague sort of way. I knew that something had gone wrong, but I couldn't quite work out what, or why it was such a bad thing.

“Harry? Harry! Aw, aw shit. Not good. C'mon, get up.” I tried. I muttered something, or at least I tried to, and I got one hand moving, but nothing else wanted to cooperate. And it seemed less and less important by the second anyway. “Stars and stones, kid. Hey! HEY! Battle Babes! We got a problem here!” The snarls and sounds of impact and fighting stopped, and then so did everything else.

~

I floated in and out of nothingness.

Every so often I could hear things, feel them.

Hands, voices, cold steel under a thin mattress. That one sent a jolt of terror through me and I fought to come all the way up. I opened my eyes and was blinded by lights, blank ceilings and someone trying to put something over my face. I jerked my head away, shouting and it came out hoarse and thin, grating out of me. I started to strike out, to force the people touching me to let go, but there were too many and they were too strong. They grabbed me, holding my arms and legs down. 

A woman's face appeared over me, her hair hidden under a little cap. She frowned at me, little wrinkles appearing in the corners of her eyes.

“Stop fighting. You need to be still, Harry.” She held up a clear mask. “It's oxygen. That's all. We need you to be calm so we can get the baby out.” I shook my head at her. No. She was lying. She was one of them and they were going to take my baby. The woman sighed and hands came from behind me, lifting my head. I tried to shake them off but it did no good. She slipped the mask over my face and it strapped on, I couldn't move it. 

I could feel movement going on around me, but I couldn't see anything. The people around me spoke, but it didn't make any sense, sound warping in and out around me. The air in the mask was cold and it bit into my throat as I shouted, trying to kick and punch. They held me down like I was nothing.

There was a sense of pressure around my stomach, I could tell that something was happening but I couldn't really feel it. Just the muted sensation of being touched, of things moving. A moment of silence, and then a cry, tiny but strong cut through the room.

Everything went out of me in a rush. 

I'd failed. 

They had the baby and they were going to hurt it. 

Panic clawed into my brain, everything washed red and I screamed. People started shouting and I heard crashing, glass breaking and then something cold washed up through my veins and everything went dark again.

~

This time the world came back in stages.

Soft cushioning behind my back, my head, the faint scent of some perfume. A trickle of a breeze across my face. Stiffness, but no pain. My face felt sticky, gummy and I reached up to rub at it.

“Harry?” Bob. I opened my eyes and turned my head to find Bob sitting on a table beside me. The lights in the skull brightened until they filled the eye-sockets completely. “How you doing there?”

“Great.” Or, well, that's what I tried to say. All that came out was a ragged little croak.

“Ice chips in the bowl.” I spotted the little blue bowl and reached into it, taking out a chip after the first two or three tries and sucking on it, soothing the harsh burn.

“Thanks. What-” And then it came back. Not the fight with Justin. That I would never forget. But after that. The women, the room. The baby. 

I bolted upright and shoved the thin sheet off of me, scrambling. An IV tapped to the back of my hand tugged at my skin and I yanked it out. All I was wearing was a thin gown and I jerked it up. I knew what I would see, but I still couldn't believe it. It was gone. There were bandages taped to my lower abdomen, but the bulge I'd been staring at for five months was gone.

“Alright. Okay, Harry? Harry, you need to listen to me here, really. Take a deep breath and just, just listen. Don't think about it. Everything is fine. You're safe, the baby's safe, I'm safe, which is a bonus! But if you start freaking out again they'll-” The door and some windows started rattling in their frames. The baby was gone. How could I protect it if it was gone? I couldn't. I couldn't and I had to. I needed the baby back, back where I could make sure it was safe.

The door clicked open and I turned to stare at it, my breathing rapid, my hands clenched on the rails of the bed. The woman from the woods came through. Not the faerie, the other one. She took one look at me and said something I was sure was a curse. Then she ducked back out. A vase went flying through the air and missed her by about an inch.

“That is quite enough, young man.” A second woman came through the door, ducking under the outstretched arm of the first. They closed the door and walked across the room. The second woman was shorter. She looked tiny next to the giantess. She had thick brown hair tied up in some weird braid that wrapped around her head and she was smiling, projecting warmth and friendliness. She looked like somebody's mother in slacks and a blouse. A book flew by her head. “Harry. You need to be calm.” She got close enough that I could see her eyes. It was the woman from the room, one of the ones who had taken the baby. 

The whole room started to shake, to hum. Something behind my eyes began to heat up, flames licking at my mind.

“Where is it?! What've you done?” Things flew into the air and shattered there, bursting into a million little shards. 

“Your son is fine Harry. He's just down the hall in the nursery. If you calm down I'll have Eir bring him in to see you. But you can't be like this. It's dangerous for him. What if you hit him?” 

“Bring him here!” A book caught fire mid-air and shot toward the woman. She reached up and made a short gesture with her fingers and the book froze over and tumbled to the floor. 

“I am not accustomed to giving in to the demands of angry children.” Something cut through the heat building in the room, in me. Something like a snow flurry, a sharp cold wind and everything dropped. The room was suddenly, deathly silent. “In your case, though, I know that it is not your fault.”

“Ma'am.” I hadn't even noticed that the tall woman had left. She stood holding a small bundle. As soon as I saw her, saw what she was holding, everything else became less important. A tiny sound came from the blankets and there was a little bit of movement.

“Give Harry his son.”

The woman, Eir, brought him to me. 

She handed him down, arranging my arms around the warm little bundle, tucking my hands up to cradle his head and neck. 

He was wrapped so tightly in the little green blanket and tiny hat that all I could see was his face. Round little cheeks, flushed with warmth, his lips parted, soft smacking sounds coming from him, eyes scrunched closed. I could feel him trying to wriggle in the blanket.

The last of the fire in my brain stuttered and died out and some sort of tension I hadn't known I was feeling eased out of my body. It left nausea in it's wake, and confusion. I had had to have him, to see him. But now...now I wanted him gone. Touching him tore me apart. I needed to, but I didn't want to.

“Do you feel calm enough now to have a conversation?” I looked up from the baby. The woman was still standing at the end of the bed, patient and waiting. I had no idea how long I'd been staring at the baby, but it felt like a while somehow.

“Yes. Who are you? What do you want? I can't let you take him. I can't.” A tiny squeak made me glance down again. I'd started to hug him tighter and I'd woken him up. He blinked pale blue-grey eyes at me, and I swear he looked put out. Then he closed his eyes again and yawned, going back to sleep. I relaxed my grip a little and leaned back against the pillows. My stomach was starting to ache from sitting up.

“My name is Frigga. Though you did not ask, this is the medical wing of the Monoc Securities head office in Oslo. I know that you will not believe me, not yet, but we want nothing from you. We were hired to remove you from Wizard DuMorne's custody and to remove him in the process. In addition, our employer wishes for us to provide certain care for you and your son for the near future. That is all.” She smiled at me, nodding her head towards the child in my arms. “We have no intention of taking him from you. If for no other reason than it seems to cause you a great deal of distress right now.”

“I don't believe you. I don't know anyone who would- who would give a damn about what Justin did to me. I don't have anyone. So who the hell hired you?”

“Sadly, I cannot tell you that. It was a stipulation of our contract. Your benefactor wishes to remain anonymous, at least for now.”

“Then why should I believe you? If this 'benefactor' was so fucking worried about me that they hired some magic ninjas or whatever the hell you people are, why the fuck didn't they do something earlier?!”

Frigga's eyebrows shot up into her hairline and I heard Eir, who was still standing beside my bed mutter, “Magic ninjas” under her breath.

“As I said. I know that you will not believe me. Though eventually we will prove ourselves to you. In the mean time, I am willing to swear to you that none of our employees wish you or your child any harm, nor will they allow any harm to come to you if they may prevent it. Would that ease you?” I turned to look at Bob. The eye lights had gone almost entirely out. It looked like Bob was trying to avoid attention.

“Bob?” He flickered a little brighter and then leaned forward, to whisper.

“Harry, these people take their oaths very, very seriously. Get her to swear on her own sword, by her own power and it'll be binding. Really, insanely binding. If she'll do that, it's on the up and up.” I turned back to Frigga.

“So? Will you do that? What Bob said?” She nodded and walked out of the room. She was only gone a few minutes and when she came back she was bearing a sword still in its scabbard. It looked old, but well cared for, the hilt and the rounded thing on the end of the hilt were carved with a twisting design. Pretty, but meaningless.

Frigga pulled the sword from it's sheath and held it up in front of her, point directly up toward the ceiling. 

“I swear to you by my power, Harry Dresden, that neither I nor any who hold oath to me will do you or your child harm, or allow you to be harmed, for the period of five years.” Power zinged over my skin, making my muscles twitch involuntarily, and the baby cried a little. He felt it too. I'd never been present for someone of the old school swearing an oath, but I could feel the magic in it, binding her to it. If she lied, if she broke this oath, it would hurt her. Frigga put the sword away and then strapped the scabbard around her waist.

“What's with the 'five years'?” 

“That is the length of our contract. We are responsible for you and your recuperation for a period of five years. After which time you will be an adult, and able to make decisions on your own, hopefully.” I looked from her and the sword she wore so naturally to Eir and then to the windows. I hadn't noticed it before, but they weren't normal windows. There was some sort of a lacework inside of the glass. They looked strong, as though they wouldn't break no matter what you threw at them.

“I'm a prisoner, then, am I? I don't get a choice in whether I stay here or not?” The idea twisted around in me. I didn't want to be trapped here. Sure she'd sworn that I was safe, and I'd felt the power of the oath. But I'd just escaped from one prison. I didn't want to walk happily into another.

“Not a prisoner, no. You are a protected ward. I am sorry, but this is necessary. You cannot be trusted to make appropriate decisions right now.” Her mouth tightened and I felt Eir tense beside me. They weren't happy about whatever was coming next. “Harry, do you remember that something was done to your mind?”

I closed my eyes, shuddering. Something slick, slimy, heavy pressed against the inside of my skull, squeezing. It didn't hurt, but I could feel it. Wrong, alien. Inescapable. I tried to say something, to tell her yes, that I remembered it. Remembered Justin kneeling over me, sweaty and sticky, his sex half-hard again and streaked with my blood as he gripped my head and cut into my mind. But I couldn't, because I couldn't tell any one. The words lodged in my chest, choking me and the pressure got worse, the tips of claws starting to scrape inside my skull.

“Enough. Stop trying to force it. You'll damage yourself more.” I backed off from the memory. It was still there, it would never go away, but I turned away. I just didn't look at it any more and the pain and pressure eased. When I opened my eyes Eir had the baby, though she was standing right next to me so I could see him and Frigga was standing on the other side of the bed, one hand resting against my forehead, warmth radiating from it. She sighed and straightened when she saw my eyes open.

“Do you need to hold the boy again, or is it all right that Eir holds him where you can see?” I thought about it. I could see him, see that he was safe. Still asleep, actually. The tension from before hadn't returned. I didn't feel that I had to have him right that second or disaster would strike.

“He's okay there. For now.”

“Good. We will have to experiment a little, to see how far away you can stand to have him. Just so we don't take him too far by mistake. You understand. There is damage that has been done beyond the physical. The physical we can take care of with relative ease. You are young and will heal. The other is the more difficult. 

“Cases such as yours are painful enough, without the additional complications caused by what has been done to your mind. We must proceed slowly. Some of the damage may be undone, if care is taken. We are bringing suit against the White Council for you. I fear they will want to examine you themselves, so we will not be able to begin until after that. If they see any meddling, they may take it amiss, try to claim that we have done this and exonerate DuMorne.”

“I don't- suit? Why? Justin didn't- I don't think they even know I exist.”

“They do now. While the White Council of Wizards is notoriously introverted, the death and devouring of one of their Wardens does attract their notice. Once we had you secure and had dealt with the immediate emergency, we contacted them. It was important to place them on the defensive before they began a witch hunt.”

“Why? I had to do it. I had to. If they see what Justin had at the house, all the things he hid, they'll understand, right?”

She looked away.

“You'll understand once you've met them.”

~

Frigga had left, eventually, but Eir remained. They'd brought in a little basket on wheels for the baby and he was sleeping contentedly close enough to my bed that I could reach out and touch him if I felt the urge, but also where I could just not have to look at him if I didn't want to. I spent a lot of time staring at the other side of the room.

I know I drifted off once or twice, and when I came fully awake again, the sun was lower in the sky. I could tell from the way the light through the windows was darker, no longer bright and cheering, but warm, orange. A setting sun.

A noise on the side where the baby basket was made me turn. My painkillers had evidently worn off because the movement pulled at my stomach, pain nipping at me. I whimpered a little, but forced myself to finish the movement. 

Eir was standing beside the basket, speaking softly to a young man who was holding the baby. The man had his back to me, but I could see he had short dark hair, sort of curly. Panic shot through me.

“Put him down!” My throat was dry again, so it came out horribly, like someone trying to talk using a cheese grater. Eir turned and then told the man to put the baby back in the bassinet. He did and turned around to face me. The man was handsome. Pale. Nearly the palest person I'd ever seen, with stormy grey eyes.

“Harry. It's okay. We just finished feeding him is all.” Eir smiled. I was getting sick of people smiling at me all the time. It looked so fake. Like they were trying to project happiness and comfort at me through sheer fucking will. She held up an empty bottle though, which was at least useful.

“Hi Harry. My name's Thomas.”

~

We didn't go to meet the people from the White Council for two weeks. I asked Eir about it one afternoon when we were taking a walk around the building. She had the baby strapped onto her in some weird sling contraption and he was sleeping again. He slept a lot, during the day. At night he got busy, which was annoying. Either Eir or Thomas was always there though, so I didn't have to do much for him, and as long as he was close enough for me to see, I didn't have an 'attack', which is what we were calling things. Eir was my own personal guard for the duration and Thomas was some sort of assistant in the company. They'd assigned him to me because he was the closest thing they had to someone my own age and he had nothing more pressing to do. 

“We have to negotiate a neutral meeting place and the number of people allowed in each party. It's not exactly delicate work, most of the time, but it does take some doing. No one wants to be caught in an ambush, though the Accords are meant to keep that from happening. And no one wants to come looking weak. So the emissaries and messengers dance back and forth, earning their keeps. Eventually they'll settle and things can get moving. Politics.” She'd sneered the last word, her accent thickening. 

So when Eir came in one morning, beaming in delight, it came as a surprise. She hadn't mentioned that anything was happening the night before. Thomas looked up from the Dr. Seuss book he'd been reading out loud when she came in and quirked an eyebrow at her. 

“They've finally made up their minds. We're heading for Frankfurt. Out.” She pointed at Thomas. “Harry needs to get changed so we can get going. The meeting's in an hour.”

“An hour? Why didn't anybody tell me? I'm not ready. I don't want to see this guy.” I drummed my fingers against the table I'd been sitting at. I hadn't been outside Monoc since I got there. I hadn't had to see or talk to anyone I didn't want to. The idea of going outside, of seeing people who weren't safe, who didn't have to protect me settled in, striking up little pockets of fear inside me. I stood, without meaning to and stormed over to the baby, picking him up and then retreating to the far side of the room. My anxiety eased a little.

“We didn't tell you because you would have worried about it for days and stressed yourself even worse. This way, you don't have as much time to worry. It's safe. I'm coming with you. We'll have another two guards as well. The White Council is only sending three people. Their healer and two guards. The day three of us can't take three old wizards is the day I retire and take up macrame.”

I snorted.

“You don't even know what macrame is.”

“Do you?”

“No.”

“Then how do you know I don't know?”

I smiled at her, a brief thing. It's what she wanted to see. They thought they were being subtle, trying to cheer me up and keep me happy. I knew what they wanted to see, so I gave it to them. It kept them from trying other things. It kept them from thinking I was damaged beyond repair.

~

The White Council's healer was an old Native American man. 

He didn't look like what I'd thought other wizards would look like. His hair was long and dark, though there was a heavy mixture of silver in it. He wore faded old jeans and a dress shirt. A messenger bag hung at his side. When he smiled his face wrinkled up and he reminded me of the grandfather of one of the kids I'd gone to elementary school with for a little while.

His guards were older too, though it was harder to tell with them. The tall one had long hair liberally sprinkled with grey and pulled back into a pony tail. He wore slacks and a dress shirt, but no jacket. Maybe that was his idea of informal? The other was shorter and balding, built like a brick wall. He was wearing a clean cover-all and work boots. 

I thought we looked much better. Eir and her sisters were all in fitted suits. I mean, at least there was a uniform. Because I was supposed to look small and helpless and pathetic I was wearing some hospital scrubs rather than the nice loose pants and shirts I'd been wearing around the compound. Eir had also insisted on pushing me around in a wheel chair. I did my best to just sit there and look fragile. It was easy with the baby strapped to me in his sling.

“May we proceed?” The tall one rumbled out, breaking the silent staring match we'd all been having.

“Of course. We have checked the area and secured it.”

“We did our own sweep when we arrived. May I introduce Senior Council member Listens-to-Wind.” The sisters all bowed their heads respectfully. “I am Warden Donald Morgan and this is Warden Ebenezar McCoy.”

“I am Eir Gard. These are my sisters, Sigrun and Rota. This is the boy in question, Harry Dresden and his son.” More nodding and then the wizard Listens-to-Wind got started.

I handed the baby off to Eir for the duration. The feel of the old man in my head was terrifying. He was gentle, delicate. I could feel him in there, touching things, maneuvering around something that I couldn't see. When he sat back, exhausted, we all looked at him, waiting.

“We have what we need. Thank you, Ladies Gard. We must return to the White Halls and report on our findings.”

“Very well.” They left, but we waited for them to clear out before we started to make our way back to the entrance we'd used from the Nevernever. Eir was pushing me along with the other two fanned out.

“Did that go well?”

“As well as can be expected, I think. The one called Listens-to-Wind has a good reputation. He will report what he saw. Whether or not that will prevent this from coming to a trial is another matter entirely. You see things happening one way and there's always someone who sees it differently.”

“What's to interpret? He saw what-” I choked. Too close. I could sometimes talk around the problem, but most of the time just the thought of it was enough to cause an attack.

“He saw the damage that had been done. It is not as though people who do such things sign their work. If we go to trial over this it will be because someone on the Council wants absolute proof. They'll want witnesses to speak before them.”

I got it. If this went to 'trial', I'd have to give evidence. Tell my part in front of strangers.

Tell them about how I killed Justin.

~

_1 month_

"He needs a name."

"Huh?" I turned to look at Thomas. He was lounging on the floor beside the baby, tickling it and letting it try to grab at his fingers. They looked like they were having fun. I'd managed to tune out the off-key singing and squishy little noises and concentrate on the paperback Eir had brought me. It was an old Nero Wolfe story, one I hadn't read before and good enough to keep my interest for more than five seconds.

"The baby. He needs a name." Thomas sat up and poked the baby gently in the stomach, making it coo and wriggle. "We can't keep calling him 'the baby'."

"Why not?" I looked back down at the book. Maybe he'd get the hint.

"Because that's not a name. He needs a name. What do you want to call him?"  
Nothing. I didn't want to look at him half the time, why the fuck should I care what he was called?

"I don't know. I haven't really thought about it."

"Well you should. It's not right, him being a month old and not having a name. It's not normal."

I laughed at him. It sounded broken and sharp to my own ears and when I looked up I could see him wince a little.

"Normal? What the hell is that?" I tossed my book up in the air and whispered a little wind spell. The book hovered, floating this way and that on the eddying current I created. "That's not 'normal' for most people. But it's okay for me." I made a sharp gesture with my hand and the book flew across the room, the spine slamming into the far wall and taking out some of the paint. "How about that?" I was standing and I didn't remember getting out of the chair. "There is _nothing_ normal about any of this! I shouldn't be here!" I grabbed another book and threw it across the room, narrowly missing Thomas' head. "'Normal'. Fuck you. He's not 'normal'. He shouldn't exist."

I wished he didn't.

Pain hit me, stabbing through one eye. I sucked in a breath and bent over, knees weak. But I refused to fall down. I hurt, but I'd had worse. It passed, eventually, once I stopped thinking about that thought. I pushed it away, pushed it somewhere where I wouldn't have to think about it and when I could, I stood straight again. Thomas had picked the baby up and moved him to his bassinet, in a corner that was fairly well shielded from the rest of the room by a half-wall. Moved him out of easy projectile range.

"You don't mean that Harry. You don't. He's your son. You're just upset right now."

"He's not mine. He's Justin's. I didn't want him. I didn't want any of this." I sounded tired, and I suddenly was. It dragged at me, something more than physical. I wanted Thomas to go away so I could lay down and sleep for a few hours. "If it's that damn important, name him yourself. I don't care."

~

They named him Anundr Malcolm Haroldsson.

Eir tried to explain how they'd gotten the name, but I tuned her out. The only thing I remembered was that they'd called him 'Haroldsson' because 'Harrysson' sounded silly.

There was a naming ceremony, which I had to attend. I couldn't let him out of my sight long enough for them to perform the ceremony without starting to panic.

Thomas found a little suit somewhere, a tiny tuxedo.  
It looked ridiculous.

The man who came in to perform the ceremony was tall and broad. He looked as though he could break people in half with one hand, but his face, though set in grave lines had a good sense of humour about it. His one eye glittered at me when he came over to introduce himself as Donar. I didn't like the feeling of him looming over me and moved away as soon as I could. He smiled and I thought he knew why I found a seat as far away from him as I could, but he didn't say anything. Didn't press.

They laid the baby on a pillow on the floor and Donar stood over him. Everyone else stood in front of them in a half circle, dressed up, solemn. It meant something to them. I scooted my chair a bit further back.  
Donar watched the baby wriggle for a few seconds and then nodded once. Thomas stepped forward and picked the baby up, handing him to Donar. He took him and held him as though he'd done it a million times before. Donar lifted one hand over the baby's head, fist clenched and spoke in a language I didn't know. It sounded similar to what some of the other employees used to talk amongst themselves, but not quite the same. The baby flapped his arms around, maybe trying to grab at the thing above his head.

Frigga stepped out from behind Donar, a wide shallow bowl in her hands. She moved in front of him, facing him over the baby. He dipped his fist into the bowl and then brought it out, water cupped in his hand. She moved so that the dish was under the baby and Donar spoke again, the only thing I could understand was the baby's name as he poured the water over the top of his head.

The baby cried a little, fussing. I could see Donar and Frigga smiling at each other across the baby. Fond. Oh. Well.

After that came the gifts. Most of the employees gave him clothes or toys, brightly colored chunks of plastic that whirled or beeped or played music. Thomas gave him a 'bouncy swing', some contraption that could be hooked up in a doorway and then the kid strapped in to entertain himself for a while. The Gards, as I thought of Eir and her sisters in the collective, gave him a wooden sword and shield. They weren't full sized, but still. When I asked, Eir said that they would be for training later.

The room cleared out after a couple of hours, leaving me and Thomas alone with the baby. Thomas fussed around for a while, arranging all the new toys and then came over to me, baby in hand.

"Hold him." I just stared at him. "Just for a second. Hold your son."

"No. I don't need to right now."

"It's not about need! He's your son! I'm not asking for anything else. Just hold him for two damn seconds." His jaw was set, stubborn. I sighed but held out my hands. The baby was a warm weight, squirming and familiar. I tucked him in close and watched Thomas watch me.

"Lea sent her presents in. She can't come visit until this whole thing with the White Council is cleared up. Monoc is worried that they'll make accusations of collusion if she's seen being too friendly around here." My eyebrows went up. I hadn't even thought of the faerie lady in weeks.

"Why would she send presents?"

"She really is your godmother you know. That wasn't a lie. Of course she'd send presents for Andy. There's one for you, too."

He went over to a bag that I hadn't noticed before and pulled out two boxes. The larger one was for the baby. It contained something that looked like a snow globe but that hummed with quiet magic. Thomas set it on the end table and touched the glass. It filled with a golden smoke and then resolved into a little moving fantasy. Rolling hills, tiny people with wings who danced and played, darting in and out of woods and flower patches. He touched it again and the images winked out.

"This one's yours." He held it out and I raised my arms a little. Baby. "Oh yeah. Sorry." He set the box down and picked the baby up, smiling at him and sticking out his tongue.

The box contained one thing, a necklace. It was a simple, heavy chain, nothing fancy. The amulet was a pentacle, dull and scarred with age. I looked at it, then back up at Thomas.

"What's this?"

He shrugged, not looking at me. There was a tension in his shoulders that seemed out of tune with the casual carelessness in his voice. "How should I know?"

"I'm not wearing it. I don't know what she means by it."

"That's up to you. Just hang on to it, okay? Faeries don't give gifts lightly."

~

_1 ½ months_

The trial with the White Council wound up being held in London. Someone rented out a small building, a convention center maybe and we met them there. Our group was small enough, again. Eir, Rota and another Gard sister whose name I couldn't remember. Probably because I had no hope of ever pronouncing it. Frigga, the baby and I were the rest. 

I sat in a small room with Unpronounceable Gard for the first half of the trial. Eir told me later that it had been evidence and testimony from the two Wardens assigned to investigate Justin's death. Turns out it was the Wardens I'd met before, Morgan and McCoy. They'd gone through the house and found all of Justin's black magic books, his tools, and his journals. 

I hadn't realized he'd been keeping detailed records of his experiments. Eir had glossed over that part, refusing to give me details, but I gathered that excerpts had been read, specifically those dealing with his project involving Elaine and I. They'd gone to the spot in the woods where I'd killed Justin and found no evidence of magic being used, apart from the little I'd done to open the way into the Nevernever. That's when they'd called me in.

Both parties had agreed to the trial being only the Senior Council, so when we walked into the room there were only nine people facing us. I recognized Warden Morgan and Warden McCoy sitting at a small table a little removed from the center of the room. Neither of them had any expression on their face as they watched us come in. They just stared and I felt my stomach flip, my skin crawling. I tightened my grip on the baby and looked away from them, which left me looking at the other seven people in the room.

They sat at a long table facing a second table, where Frigga, Eir and Rota sat, waiting. The man in the center, the Merlin, practically radiated scorn. He didn't like being here. He didn't like having been called out on one of his people doing wrong. I hated him before he ever opened his mouth.

I took my seat and when asked told them about the party, about realizing that Justin was going to sell the baby to one of those people and my plan to run away. I told them about Justin following me and attacking me in the woods and how I'd defended myself, desperate to escape. I told them about beating Justin to death and I stared down at my own hands the entire time. I couldn't look at them after the first few sentences. I'd been staring at a small Asian woman who looked like she was older than time, her face unmoveable until I started talking about Justin taking care of me after the party. Then I saw her mouth tighten, pity and disgust sliding into her eyes. So I looked down. I got to the fight between Eir and Lea and then I had to stop. I didn't really know what had happened next.

Lea actually came next, to testify to her part in the proceedings. She perched on the edge of our table and told the Senior Council about how she'd been asked to be my godmother before I was ever born. How she'd been following me around, just watching, doing little things for me when she could until I turned ten and Justin adopted me. Then I'd dropped off the faerie radar. Justin, for all that he'd been an evil bastard, had been a very good wizard. Something he'd done had shielded me from Lea, prevented her from finding me until he had died. That's why she'd shown up when she had. I'd just suddenly popped back up and she'd headed for me, not knowing when or if I was going to disappear again.

After Lea finished, she turned her head to wink at me and then vanished. Not in a puff of smoke, just gone in one instant.

“Very well. We have heard all of the testimony. There is no doubt that Justin DuMorne had turned to black magic, or that this young man killed him without breaking the First Law. As far as that charge is concerned, I don't believe that a vote is even necessary.” The Merlin glanced up and down the table. None of the others voiced an argument. “That leaves us with the disposition of DuMorne's apprentice and his heir.” I went cold. Eir slid her hand across my wrist and I jumped, then looked at her and relaxed as much as I could. She patted the back of my hand, trying to be comforting. I had thought the trial was just about Justin's death. 

“I believe that we covered this in the preliminaries, Merlin. Monoc has a contractual obligation to maintain custodianship of Mr. Dresden for the next five years. We have provided you with copies of the contracts relevant clauses. In light of this, I don't believe that there is a question of who has guardianship of Harry.”

“We have reviewed the documents, Lady Frigga, however the boy is an apprentice wizard. He needs to be placed with a proper master in order to undo whatever training DuMorne gave him so that he might one day be a useful member of this council. He cannot do that if he is sequestered on your compound.”

“Monoc has already arranged for the completion of Harry's education, both magical and mundane. I understand that you would like to have the world believe otherwise, but there are a good number of magical practitioners of council level who are not members of this body. We have a fair few on staff ourselves. In addition, I am not convinced that any member of your council would be willing or able to provide the treatment that Harry needs.”

“I beg your pardon? Wizard Listens-to-Wind is an expert on dealing with the effects of black neuromancy. I have no doubts that he would be able to mitigate the effects of the geas.”

“Which is not enough, Arthur.” Frigga drummed her fingers against the table. “Has Listens-to-Wind added psychology to his list of accomplishments? No?” She glanced at the wizard in question. He shook his head in the negative. “Then, as skilled as I know he is, his talents are not precisely what is needed. We have contracted with Wizard Stokes, an apprentice of Listens-to-Wind who has gotten a degree in psychology and works as a counselor and therapist in the mundane world. Monoc has used her services before, to deal with more minor cases of compulsion and we know that she is finely skilled. Wouldn't you agree?”

“Yes. She's one of the best.” Listens-to-Wind wasn't the most talkative person I'd ever met. 

“So. We have both the obligation and the right to retain custody of Harry. In addition, we are better prepared to provide him with the long term care that he will need.”

“The boy has been tainted.” My fists clenched in my lap and I felt a shiver of power move over me. The baby, in a baby seat on the floor between my chair and Eir's stirred and made little whuffling sounds. I tried to breathe deep, to calm down. It wasn't really working. “His master was a warlock. He needs to be properly retrained.”

“We will deal with the training, as I said. If you are that concerned, we may make arrangements for a wizard of the council to check in from time to time. But none of that requires us to give up custody.”

“The boy belongs with his own kind.”

“Ah. Wizards are a kind now, are they? I hadn't realized. Well, of course, if there is an adult family member who would care to step forward and press a claim based on blood precedence, that would be a different matter. As it is, Harry is an orphan. Monoc has had the mundane legal custody shifted to us as well. Is there any relation that wishes to make a claim?” I looked around the room. No one moved or said anything. “Then, unless you have a better argument, Harry will remain with us, where he is safe.”

The Merlin shifted in his seat. 

“As for DuMorne's heir, the child-”

“Is also safest in our custody. Even if it were possible to separate him from Harry without doing irrevocable damage to his mind, we will not agree to it. DuMorne was attempting to sell this child to members of the underworld. People who use the darkest of magics. You didn't even realize that DuMorne had two teenage children in his care. Do you honestly think you can convince me you could prevent one of these parties from taking the child from whoever you place him with?”

“We are more than capable of caring for one small child. The boy is incapable of caring for the child. The father, DuMorne, has family. His heir should be placed with them.” My power flickered over me. I tried to let everything fade away, to calm it down. I did not need to lose it here and now.

“You can't police the wizards you have. I wouldn't go looking for more until you can. I wouldn't turn a goldfish over to anyone who thinks it's a good idea to hand an infant over to anyone related to the creature DuMorne. But it doesn't matter. Harry is not taking care of his son alone. My husband has adopted Anundr into our house. According to the old laws, he is family to us. We will not be turning over anyone to you.” Frigga smiled, wolfishly. She didn't much like the Merlin either.

“What about what the boy wants?” The Merlin turned to me and sparkled. His blue eyes twinkled and everything. It was completely creepy, this sudden change. I scooted my chair back and slouched in it, fingers brushing the edge of the baby blanket, feeling Andy's warmth through them, soothing.

“You guys trusted Justin, right? You thought he was a good guy, one of you. You were in the house while I was there, locked in the crawlspace. And none of you noticed anything. You're useless. Blind. If I had to make a choice, I'd never choose you. And if you try and take my baby I will burn this place to the ground.” The power I'd been trying to dissipate slipped out of my control and slapped at the Merlin.

I set his robes on fire. I swear it was an accident.

~

_3 months_

Wizards age slower than other people. I hadn't known that until I met Natalie.

Dr. Stokes looked like she was in her late thirties, maybe early forties. Only she had great-great-grandchildren who were in college. It bothered me, a little, to realize that I was going to live for a very, very long time. Unless I kept setting other wizards on fire, which had made me very unpopular in those circles for the moment. It had only been the one, though, and I maintained that he had it coming.

Also I hadn't meant to do it.

"Are you ready to try again?" Natalie and I were sitting on the floor of my room facing one another, close enough that our knees touched.

"I guess." Her hands dropped from where they'd been hovering next to my temples.

"Harry. We've talked about this. You need to be clear in what you want. And say it. If you don't want to do something, you need to say no. Especially right now. We can't work on removing the compulsions if you're fighting me the whole time. It just causes more scarring."

We had talked about this. I'd stopped making decisions for myself. I'd stopped caring about what I did. If someone asked me to do something, I'd just go along with it. I didn't express my opinions. Until the anger and pain inside me built to critical levels and then I threw fits. The aftermath of my outbursts left me exhausted, everything too much, too close, overwhelming, and if left to myself I crawled into my bed and stayed there until someone made me get out.

I took the time to really think about how I was feeling. We'd been working at this for maybe two hours. I was tired. My head hurt, my neck was so tense it felt like I couldn't even move it, I was sort of nauseous, and I'd been crying at the end of the last attempt. Did I feel up to having Natalie in my head, gently pulling and cutting me open to let the poison out?

"Harry?"

"No?" It came out a questioning whisper. I ground my teeth, hating the fact that my stomach dropped out on me, worry that she was going to be mad, or disappointed or tell me tough shit we're doing it anyway rising. I knew she wouldn't, but I was afraid anyway.

"Okay. Good." She rose and went over to grab some water bottles out of the cooler. I scrubbed at my face and tried to push my anxieties away. Natalie handed me one bottle and sat down in her chair with the other. There was silence for a few minutes while I pulled some of myself back together. "Do you want to talk Harry? We won't do any more work today."

"Sure. Yes. I mean. Yes. We can talk." I got up into my own chair, rolling the bottle up and down my leg, the cold and wet seeping slowly through my jeans.

"How have you been sleeping?"

"Not well. Or, I don't know. I still have the nightmares. But not so often. Only once or twice a night. Which is an improvement, I guess." My nightmare was a variation on the one I'd been having since before the baby was born. Monsters chasing me, stealing him, bearing me down and then Justin. Always Justin. He was dead, I knew it. But he kept coming back. And everything started all over again. But now, in addition to the shadow creatures, there were the men from the Council. The Merlin, snatching the baby away. Sometimes I watched as he killed the baby, lifting him high over his head and then smashing him to the ground, or smothering him, his little arms and legs kicking until they didn't any more. And then Justin would be there, touching me, making another baby. With the Merlin standing off to the side, watching, waiting for the next one so he could kill it too. Those were the worst. I couldn't go back to sleep after those. I would move the baby into my bed and just sit up the rest of the night, watching him and flinching at every noise.

"I know we talked about giving you something to help you sleep, before. Nothing narcotic, of course, but there are some herbal potions we could try."

"Would they get rid of the nightmares?"  
"Not entirely, no. They're just meant to help you get to a deeper sleep, one where you don't dream. There's no guaranteed method to keep you from having nightmares Harry. They'll come and go as we work together. Sometimes, when we remove part of the compulsion, it shakes them loose, makes them worse for a while. That's why we move so slowly and combine the removal with therapy. We have to deal with every step along the way before we can move to the next one."

"I don't like the idea of taking something. What if I need to wake up really fast? What if I need to fight or something and I'm groggy?"

"There are some that can have that affect, but we won't use one of those. The others aren't as strong, but they don't leave you groggy. Would you like to try one? Just for one night? If it doesn't work, or you don't like the way it makes you feel we won't use it again."

I thought, and then nodded. "Okay." Maybe I'd feel better, stronger, if I could get a whole nights sleep.

"Can we talk about something you just said, for a second? You're worried about having to wake up in the middle of the night and fight, or run?"

"Yes." I took a deep breath and glanced over at the baby. He was laying on his stomach in the playpen that had been set up, gurgling and cooing at his reflection in the mirror on one side. As I watched, he lifted himself up, his head and shoulders coming up, hands patting at the mirror baby. It only lasted a second or so and then he laid back down, rolling himself onto his back and blowing bubbles. At least he entertained himself, for the most part. "I know it's crazy. I know it. But I can't stop feeling it. Why? I should be- I shouldn't still be so-"

"Wait, stop. There's no 'should be' or 'shouldn't be' here. You are where you are right now and that's all. You have justifiable anxieties that have been magnified by the effects of the compulsion. You've been abused, Harry. There's no schedule for this. We can only deal with what happens as it happens. You will get better, but it's not going to be right away."

~

_5 months_

"Harry! Harry come look!"

I opened my eyes and glared at the ceiling. I was going to kill Thomas. It was the only solution.

Yesterday had been rough. I'd seen Natalie and we'd managed to give me a nosebleed. It was my fault, really. I'd known we'd pushed too far, my head swimming, muscle cramps striking here and there throughout my body. But I wanted to make some damn progress. So I lied and pushed and pushed until I found myself curled on my side on the floor, a cool washcloth on my forehead and blood drying on my face. Natalie had been less than thrilled with me. 'Progress at the expense of your health is no progress at all.'

Then the baby had spit his dinner back up in my face. He wasn't sick, he just didn't like the mashed whatever it was. Shower and a baby bath later, and he spent two hours crying and fussing because he didn't want to go to bed. Eir had helped, of course, and we'd eventually gotten him to sleep, but I was tired. And it was three in the fucking morning.

"Harry!"

I rolled out of bed, growling.

Thomas was in the baby's area, lights blazing. He had the kid up, of course, and it looked like a tornado had struck. Toys everywhere. Thomas sat in the middle of the rug, holding the baby sitting up between his outstretched legs, cooing and making 'ba' sounds at his favorite toy.

"There you are. Look!" Thomas let go of the baby and rather than topple slowly over, he remained upright. "He can sit up!" Thomas grinned at me. I smiled back, tight, and walked over to the two of them.

"Let me have him." A quick smirk flicked over Thomas' face and then he scooped the baby up and handed him to me. Andy made a gurgley, sloppy noise and grabbed hold of my hair, tugging a little. "Do you know what time it is?"

"Um...no? I went out with one of the teams and we just got back. So I wanted to see Andy and- uh- it's really really late, isn't it?"

"Yeah." He at least had the grace to look sheepish. "Bye Thomas!" I muttered under my breath and flicked my hand at him. The spell pushed at him, slow and gentle and he went sliding across the carpeting toward the door.

"I can take a hint, you know!" I ignored him and headed back to bed, taking the baby with me.

~

_9 months_

“Happy birthday, godson.” Lea's voice was soft and purring, as always. I smiled at her and it wasn't forced, or strained. I liked Lea. Of all the people around me, she was the only one who didn't care about the baby. The other's cared about me too, I knew, but their attention was divided. Lea had given him a naming gift because that's what was done and she didn't dislike the baby, but I was who was important to her when she came to visit. It was nice. And a little overwhelming. Having all of Lea's attention was a heavy thing.

“Godmother.” I stood, abandoning my lunch and we embraced, her touch feather light. “Please, sit.”

“And how has your day been? Not exhausted from parties, I hope? I had an outing planned, if you wanted to come.”

“Not exhausted, no. I vetoed the party they had planned. Too much...everything. They're doing a nice dinner tonight, that's all. Where would we be going? You know I can't just take off.” I'd tried that once, when the tie between the baby and I had finally been severed enough that I could leave him behind. Donar had been waiting for me on a bench at the train station. He hadn't said anything, just taken my bag from me and walked me to the car he had waiting.

It was in the car that he'd spoken. He asked me why I was leaving.

I told him. I told him about how trapped I felt, how helpless. No one let me do anything alone. I had my tutors for magic and regular schooling, I had Bob, but I felt like a pet. Something they brushed, fed and watered and taught tricks to. Not a real person. And I told him that I didn't want the baby, and I thought I should feel bad about that, only I didn't. I didn't feel anything about it. Now that I didn't feel as though I had to see him, keep him with me and keep him safe, there was nothing there. I didn't hate him, but I hadn't spontaneously developed affection for him either. 

Thomas thought I just wasn't trying hard enough. 

I thought Thomas was an ass.

Donar had listened silently, and then given me an option. An out. 

Now that they could remove the baby from me, if I wanted them to, they would. He had claimed the baby as a part of his house under the old ways. That hadn't been a trick for the Council's benefit. If it was really what I wanted, he and Frigga were willing to take the baby and raise him themselves. But he asked me not to rush into it. The compulsion was still there, in part. Natalie and I had made a lot of progress in getting that part of it out, in mitigating the damage, but it was going to take years and, I was beginning to understand, the effects would never entirely go away. Donar asked me to stay, to take their help and to keep in mind that I wasn't tied to the baby against my will. I had another choice.

I stayed, and the baby was moved to his own room down the hall.

“I've spoken to Angan Friggjar, and he says it would be acceptable. We will take the Ways, and two of the Choosers. Just in case. In case of what, I do not know. I am very capable of defending us, but he feels his honor would be at stake. And there is little he loves like his honor.” I laughed, a little. Very few beings frustrated Lea, but Donar was one of them. “As for our destination, it's a surprise. Will you come?”

I thought about it for a minute, then nodded.

“Excellent. Can you bring the necklace I gave you?”

“Sure. But why?”

“Ah. I'll explain there.”

~

It was a graveyard. An old style one, well cared for, with large head stones, mausoleums. Beautiful, in the way such places could be.

Lea led us through the maze of graves, her hounds running out ahead of us and to all sides, playing. But I didn't doubt that if something came up, they'd be on it. Of course the two armed women behind us weren't exactly slackers in the defense department either. 

When we finally stopped it was in front of a smallish monument, newer than anything else we'd walked past. Lea stared at it and everything about her changed, grew serious. Sad. I put a hand on her shoulder, trying to offer the Sidhe woman some comfort. I had no idea why we were here, or whose grave this was, but it was obviously someone Lea had cared about.

“I want to tell you about your mother, Harry.”

~

_2 years_

“Incoming.” I dropped my mothers pentacle amulet back down onto my chest and looked up to see what Vali was talking about.

Thomas was stomping across the gym, dodging weight machines as he came. I was guessing he'd heard the news.

“Knew he was going to find out eventually. This place is like high school. No one can resist a good story.” My opponent grunted and we both stepped off the mats.

“You want me to stay?”

“Nah. I've got him. Thanks.” Vali waved and headed to the showers, leaving me to put the staffs away.

“How could you?” Thomas started shouting from about three feet away. 

“It was the best for everyone, Thomas.”

“The best? You gave your son away! I get that it's been rough. I know you've been having trouble connecting with him, but shipping him off to live with strangers isn't helping!”

“Calm down. I did not give Andy away. Frigga and Donar have been raising him anyway, really. We just made it official. He's two now, and it was only going to get more confusing and difficult for him the longer we left off making a decision. I really should have done it sooner, but I did-” I took a deep breath and glanced up at the ceiling. “I did want to try, Thomas. I know what it's like to be an orphan, to feel abandoned. I didn't want that for him. It's not that I'm having trouble connecting, Thomas. I'm not. Period. That's all there is to it. He deserves better than that.”

“But you just abandoned him. How could you do that. I don't understand, Harry. I don't.”

“I know you don't. You've got no idea how hard I tried. But I'm not abandoning him. He's never going to know I'm his father, okay? Hell, he already calls Donar 'Da'. He'll think I'm a family friend or something.”

“No. That's not good enough Harry. He's your son. He's family. You don't leave your family. Not for anything.”

“Bullshit. This isn't about family, Thomas. This is about what's going to give everyone the best life possible. I can't give him what he needs. It's not fair to him, or to me, to keep on pretending that that's going to change. He needs a family who can love him. That's what I'm giving him.”

“You would take great care of him Harry. You would. You took care of him before, and he was happy.” 

I shook my head.

“I fed him, changed him, whatever needed to be done. But it's not enough to just take care of what has to be taken care of. People, kids, they need affection. He'd grow up knowing I didn't want him. That I only took care of him because I had no choice. That's abuse, Thomas. Those scars don't ever heal.”

“No. No, you wouldn't hurt him. You just have to try, Harry. Call Donar up and tell him you changed your mind.”

“Not happening.” I turned to walk away. Thomas and I could argue for days and get nowhere. The decision was made, Andy had already moved to Frigga's home on the compound and that was that. I felt lighter with it done. I'd known it was the right thing to do for months before I'd made the final decision.

Thomas made a frustrated hissing sound and grabbed my arm, hard.

I shouted and whirled on one foot. He wasn't expecting the punch. It staggered him back, made him let go. He was still shaking his head, trying to clear it when I threw my hand out and yelled 'Forzare'. The force I unleashed caught Thomas up and flung him into the far wall of the gym. Plaster and paint rained down on his head as he slid to the floor and crumpled there.

I stalked over to him. He raised his head, his gray eyes had started to go pale. Not white, or silver, but just a little paler than normal. Good.

“Do not. Ever. Grab me again. Ever, Thomas. I don't get you. I don't know what your problem is, why you have such a bug up your ass about me and my relationship with Andy. You're an employee here, Thomas. Or at least that's what everyone swears to. But you're the only vampire on staff, and you seem to spend most of our time telling me what I'm doing wrong. So you either have the weirdest job description I've ever heard of, or there's something going on that no one will tell me.”

“Harry, I-”

“Shut up. I get to talk now. It's fine. If you were a danger, you wouldn't be here. But I'm done with this. I'm done with you acting like you have the right to run my life. I'm sick of you trying to force your idea of what's right on me. You think I didn't know what you were doing with the late night visits or the scenarios you cooked up to force me to interact with Andy when I didn't want to? I know you meant well, but you weren't helping.

“Now, I'm going to go and get showered. You, you just go away. Go be elsewhere for a good long while. Until you understand that you're my friend and not my boss, I don't want to see you. Clear?”

~

I didn't see Thomas for almost two weeks after our fight. It was the longest we'd gone without speaking to one another since I got here and his absence grated. There was a Thomas shaped gap in my daily life that I'm wasn't quite sure how to fill.

He was annoying and pushy and maybe more secretive than any of the other people at Monoc, which would be impressive if it wasn't so aggravating, but Thomas was still my friend. He had been my friend through screaming fits and explosive baby diarrhea and vomiting that would have put the girl in the Exorcist to shame. 

I missed him in a way I hadn't realized I would.

He catches me in the gym again. This time I'm just watching the Gard's work out, sitting on a weight bench and flinching every time a training sword gets through someones guard, cheering Eir and Sigrun on equally, even when they're facing one another. Thomas had slipped silently through the empty gym until he was beside me.

“Hey.”

“Hey.” I looked up at him and Thomas' eyes were dull, dark shadows beneath them turning his sharp cheekbones into skeletal ridges.

“Can we talk?”

I opened my mouth to say something smart, to shrug him off and make it all a joke. But I looked into his eyes and the words wouldn't come. “Sure.” 

I started to stand but Thomas shook his head and settled onto the bench beside me, facing the other way. I could see his profile this way, watch the way his throat strains around each word as if it's a fight just to give them birth.

“My mom left me when I was five. She put me to bed one night and the next morning she was gone and she never came back. My mother kissed me and told me that she loved me and then she abandoned me.” Thomas took a deep breath and we both pretended that I couldn't see the pain in his face. “I never saw her again. My father-” Thomas shook his head and shrugged, a sharp motion full of anger. “My father is a vampire and he just picked someone else, you know? I know, in my head, why she left. I don't blame her for that. He would have killed her eventually, it's what he does. 

“But she _left me_ and I just can't-” 

“I-” I reached for Thomas and he pulled away, his mouth a tight line of anguish.

“No. Let me finish.” He drew in a steadying breath and leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “I love her and I'm angry with her and she's my _mother_. She gave birth to me and she loved me for five years and then she just _stopped_ loving me. I wish I knew how she did that, so I could do it too.” Thomas shook his head and I could feel the strain that was tearing him apart. “I know you're not her and I know that it's not the same, that Andy isn't being left with a monster, okay? But you're all he has! You're his blood, his family and family shouldn't abandon one another. I'm sorry I don't like what you're doing and I'm sorry that- that- I'm sorry but I don't think you're doing the right thing Harry. 

“And I can't promise that I won't bring it up again. I'll try, I will, because you're my- my _friend_ and I don't want to lose you or Andy but I'm never going to like it.”

“Hells bells, Thomas.” I scooted over on the bench until our shoulders were touching. “You're not going to lose me. Or Andy.” I bumped my elbow into his side. “I don't need you to agree with me, just to trust me.”

“I'm trying.”

We sat in silence for a few minutes, Thomas staring off into a world only he could see. 

“I'm sorry. About your mother.” My hand drifted to the pentacle Lea had kept safe for me. All I would ever have of my own mother. “If you wanted to...to talk about her, sometime. I would listen.”

Thomas' silence filled the space around us and for a long time I thought he wouldn't say anything at all.

“Thanks. Not- not now. I can't. But maybe someday, okay?”

_4 years_

“Hawy!” Thirty-five pounds of excited toddler slammed into my shins at a hundred miles an hour. I pretended to stagger and he giggled, clinging to my leg like a leach. 

“Hey. What're you doing out here? Aren't you supposed to be taking a nap?”

“No naps!” Andy leaned back, fingers fisted into my jeans and glared up at me, face twisted into displeasure, dark eyes serious. Or as serious as a tired four year old who refused to nap could be. 

“Uh-huh.” I leaned down and picked him up, which he took as an excuse to use me for a jungle gym. “Let's go find your dad and see what he has to say about that.”

Donar was in his office, staring out a window that hadn't been there the last time I visited. As soon as Andy saw his father he started leaning out of my arms, making 'gimmie' noises and reaching out. I set him down and he ran around the desk to greet Donar with the same tackling hug he'd met me with. Donar swung him up and set him on the edge of the desk, then frowned at him.

“Why aren't you sleeping?”

“No. No naps. 'm a big boy.”

“True enough. But I wager Sasha is looking for you. She's going to be very unhappy that you didn't stay in the bed for long.”

“Don't care!” Andy crossed his arms and returned Donar's stare.

“I see. Well, we'll find Sasha and find out how she feels about it. Harry, you wanted to see me?”

“Yes. I've been thinking about your offer. About what I should do once the five years are up?”

“Yes?”

“I'd like to stay, to work for you.” 

~

_9 years_

“Who has business meetings in a restaurant, that's what I want to know.” Sigrun and I stepped out of the Ways a block or so from where we were meeting Donar and Monoc's newest client.

“People who are hungry? Or maybe just those who wish the meeting to be incognito. What difference does it make?”

“None, I guess. I just think it's weird. Most of the clients at least have offices.” Sigrun was walking in front, but I knew she was rolling her eyes at me.

“I'm certain he does too. But the meeting is here. Stop complaining.”

“It's not complaining!” 

We made it to the restaurant with no trouble, and the waiter led us to Donar's table right away. There were three people there. Donar, a rather large red-headed man who watched every movement in the room without seeming to look at anything at all, and a slightly older man with brief touches of gray mixed into his dark hair, dark green eyes focusing on us as we approached. 

“Here they are.” We stopped next to the table and Donar rose. “Allow me to make the introductions. Harry Dresden, I would like you to meet John Marcone.”

**Author's Note:**

> It's Justin. Because he needed killing.


End file.
